


The Three Laws of Robotics

by sakurakyouko



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, POV Outsider, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23591854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurakyouko/pseuds/sakurakyouko
Summary: For as long as Betty had known her, Veronica Sawyer marched to the beat of her own drum. She was an individual, indomitable, ingenious. It seemed like she was always two steps ahead of everybody, and the smug little grin on her face showed that she knew it, too. But she never condescended. Veronica made a point of treating everyone as her equals, at least until they gave her a good reason to think otherwise.Or, a firsthand account of the Averted Bombing of Westerberg High and the sixteen years of friendship before it, as told by one Betty Finn.
Relationships: Betty Finn & Veronica Sawyer, Betty Finn/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler & Heather Duke & Heather McNamara & Veronica Sawyer, Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	The Three Laws of Robotics

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: abusive relationship (jd and veronica), extensive references to suicide and suicide attempts, some internalized homophobia, and graphic violence involving guns. the climax of this fic, as with the movie, revolves around a foiled bombing plot, so if that would upset you then i would steer clear

For as long as Betty had known her, Veronica Sawyer marched to the beat of her own drum. She was an individual, indomitable, ingenious. It seemed like she was always two steps ahead of everybody, and the smug little grin on her face showed that she knew it, too. But she never condescended. Veronica made a point of treating everyone as her equals, at least until they gave her a good reason to think otherwise.

Veronica didn’t tolerate bullies. If she saw somebody get pushed down on the playground, she’d go tell the teacher. And when the teacher shrugged and said “Boys will be boys,” Veronica took it upon herself to show the boys how well a girl could throw a punch.

Betty would stare at her with stars in her eyes, wishing she had Veronica’s fighting spirit. Betty was quiet and shy, and if given the choice, she would rather stay inside at recess and read than play hopscotch and jump rope with the other girls. Veronica preferred to play out under the sun, but sometimes she would join Betty in the classroom and read, too. Other times she would drag Betty outside with her to sit underneath the big oak tree behind the playground. She tried to convince Betty to climb it with her, but she declined, so the two girls kept their feet planted firmly on the ground.

The books Veronica chose to read were much thicker than Betty’s, and they had more in common with textbooks than any of the quiet reading books their teacher could offer. Veronica would squint down at the pages with an intense focus, her face all screwed up in concentration, and Betty would ask her if she needed glasses, and Veronica would laugh.

Even after all the years that went by, Betty still couldn’t get over that laugh. All the other kids made fun of Veronica’s laugh, saying it sounded like a car trying to start or a cat about to hack up a hairball, but Betty didn’t care. It was her best friend’s laugh, and that’s what made it special.

It was only normal to look up to your best friend, right? That’s what that tight feeling in her chest was. Admiration and camaraderie. Or that’s what Betty told herself, anyway. She had to look away when she saw Veronica holding hands with her eighth grade boyfriend, and it was jealousy closing up her throat, and she had to admit she wasn’t jealous of Veronica for getting to be with a boy. She was jealous of _him_ for getting to be with Veronica.

Veronica may have been a little busy with boys, but Betty’s whole life didn’t revolve around her. They were still best friends, and they had many sleepovers, but they weren’t attached at the hip the same way they were in elementary school.

Betty didn’t feel bad about it, though, since she had other people to spend time with whenever Veronica was preoccupied. In middle school it had been Amy and Laura from the book club, and Amy’s little sister Kristen. They were nice girls, and like her, they were more interested in books than boys. They didn’t share her passion for computing and robotics, but that was fine. They could talk about _Pride and Prejudice_ instead.

Amy and Kristen moved away on the tail end of eighth grade, so it was just Betty and Laura. And then it was Laura and Mark.

Around the same time, Veronica broke up with her boyfriend, so Betty spent a lot of time with her that summer before freshman year. They took to lamenting the Sawyer family’s lack of a pool as they languished beneath the summer sun. When they got tired of croquet, they would wander inside to sit on cold tile in front of an open refrigerator door and sip on pink lemonade. Otherwise they would go upstairs for a fashion show, to try on pieces from Veronica’s quite expansive and eclectic collection of hats. Or they would sit on the living room sofa, throw in a VHS tape, and put entirely too much salt on the popcorn, which was _always_ Veronica’s fault. Betty was meticulous in adding the salt, exercising a reasonable amount of caution, and then Veronica would come out of nowhere and startle the daylights out of her. Evidently the excess of salt “added character”.

The two girls went into high school thick as thieves, but as Veronica caught the boys’ eyes, they drifted apart again. They were still good friends, but it was the same as in middle school. Betty found a new crowd soon enough, so she wasn’t left floundering for long. Her new friends didn’t care so much for literature, but Holly wanted to be a veterinarian and Jenny sang the praises of Marie Curie. Betty figured she could work with that; science and technology went hand in hand, after all.

In the middle of their sophomore year, Veronica managed to catch the Heathers’ attention. After that point, she and Betty barely spoke anymore. Veronica was inundated-- indoctrinated?-- pretty much overnight, and Betty was _baffled_ . Not because she didn’t think Veronica deserved the attention, but because she didn’t think Veronica would be _interested_. She had never put much stake in social hierarchies and the mind games people played, and yet there she was, playing chess with the best of them.

It was no secret that Veronica was brilliant. You didn’t have to look very hard to see the way she went glassy-eyed in class, bored out of her skull being “taught” material she already read up on years ago. Or maybe Betty just spent too much time watching Veronica, too much time spent staring into her dark eyes and learning all of her friend’s little tells.

Anyway. Betty stewed on the topic for months, because she wouldn’t mind that Veronica had found new friends if she didn’t look so unhappy with them. Betty was quiet and shy, so she knew how to watch and listen closely without getting caught. Thankfully, Veronica hadn’t lost that spark of individuality, that fighter’s spirit that kept her going, but Betty soon realized that someone else in the group had long since lost theirs.

Heather Duke was a bookish type, and she was easily cowed by Heather Chandler. Betty took one look at the way her shoulders hunched over every time the blonde with the red scrunchie would speak, and the pieces began to fall into place. Heather Chandler glanced at her redheaded friend with scarcely concealed disdain, but she gazed upon Heather McNamara and Veronica with something approaching approval. Maybe even pride. But pride was a sin.

As far as Betty could reason… Maybe Veronica was drawn in by the challenge the Heathers presented her with. She had spent most of her life on the fringe of the social hierarchy, not really boxing herself in with any one group. She was always somewhere in the middle, and now she was being gifted a backstage pass to the whole operation. She was doing far more than peeking behind Oz’s curtain; she was being handed the key to the kingdom.

Veronica was being primed to be the next queen bee, Heather McNamara her lieutenant, and Heather Duke the devoted disciple. It made so much sense. Betty could see it all now. Heather Chandler’s perfect plan was poetry in motion, the gears turning elegantly towards their natural conclusion. But that was the one bit of code Betty couldn’t crack. What was Heather Chandler playing at? Isaac Asimov’s third law of robotics sprung to mind: a robot must protect its own existence. Self-preservation was paramount. Heather Chandler enjoyed her power too much to ever relinquish it, so why would she ever dream of setting up a successor?

When Heather Chandler killed herself, Betty couldn’t help but feel like she should have seen it coming. She may not have known the girl personally, but she had spent so much time trying to unravel the mystery surrounding Veronica’s friendship with the Heathers that she felt invested. She grieved the loss with the rest of the student body, but perhaps none of them suffered more than Veronica.

Betty wanted to reach out to her old friend and reconnect, maybe offer her some solace, but she was spending so much time with that new boy. The one with the trenchcoat. Something about him told Betty to stay away, and it wasn’t just his rebellious attitude. There was something… _dangerous_ about the way he smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, and she had a feeling that when it did, it wasn’t a good thing.

Veronica had always liked bad boys. That’s exactly why she would never want a goodie-two-shoes like Betty Finn.

So, Betty kept an eye out for her friend from afar, quietly concerned, but resolved to stay out of it. It really wasn’t her business who Veronica chose to date. Betty was quiet and shy, so she knew when it was best to mind her business and not involve herself with other people’s drama. It was more trouble than it was worth. She just had to keep her head down and get through the rest of the school year. And then the year after that. And then, college.

Betty tried to stay out of it. She really, really did. But she overheard things. The boy’s name was Jason “J.D.” Dean, and he was the son of Big Bud Dean, as in Big Bud Dean Construction. He had transferred schools many times, travelling with his father for work, and he evidently hadn’t had any _incidents_ at other schools like when he had fired blanks at Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney. If he had, then she was sure it would’ve reached the Westerberg rumor mill by now.

Word got around fast at a high school. And when people claimed your friend did _very_ lewd things in the woods with two football players, on the night of Heather Chandler’s funeral no less… Well. Betty knew better than to believe them. Veronica was many things: a genius, down-to-earth, and a very genuine girl. Betty couldn’t speak to Veronica’s sexual activities, nor did she particularly care to, but the bottom line was: Veronica Sawyer was not the kind of person who would cheat on her boyfriend.

Betty wanted to seek Veronica out and reassure her with the knowledge that at least one person believed in her, but the girl was nowhere to be found. She must have been hiding out somewhere to avoid the worst of the ridicule, Betty assumed. She could hardly blame her.

The next morning, Betty overslept and awoke to her mom barging into her room without knocking. So she could tell immediately that something was horribly wrong.

And that something was the suicide pact of Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney. Her mom balked at divulging some of the more sensitive details, but Betty was able to glean this much: school was cancelled because Kurt and Ram had left a suicide note the day after they spread a nasty rumor about Veronica.

Had they felt guilty for slandering her? Betty had never known them to feel any sort of remorse for their bullying, and she found it hard to imagine them taking their own lives after spreading a rumor. Obviously their actions were abhorrent, but these were the two guys who went around beating up fourteen-year-olds for kicks. If anything was going to be the final nail in the coffin, it wouldn’t be this.

Betty shook her head disbelievingly and dialed Veronica’s number with the phone at her bedside.

“Hello?” Veronica sounded completely drained, and Betty almost felt guilty for calling.

“Hi Veronica, it’s me, Betty,” she began. “I guess you’ve heard the news about Kurt and Ram, huh.”

“Yeah.” Veronica let out a deep sigh.

Betty decided it would be best to cut to the chase. “My mom won’t tell me everything. I think she’s afraid she’ll traumatize me with the gory details,” she commented with a little uneasy chuckle. “Do you know the whole story?”

Veronica paused for a long moment. “Kurt and Ram killed themselves. It was a suicide pact. Uh, I guess they had some sort of… gay love affair going on.”

Betty blinked owlishly. “Huh?”

“Yeah, I know, I was surprised too,” Veronica replied. “Word is they were tired of hiding their love so they just…” She made a little airy _pew_ sound into the receiver. “Dead.”

“ _Jesus_.”

“I know, it’s awful.”

“But…” Betty hesitated to share her confusion with Veronica, because she didn’t want to make it seem like she suspected her friend of doing anything wrong. _But._ “But just yesterday they were bragging about doing-- all those things that I _know_ you didn’t do, don’t worry, I believe you-- and I just…” Betty huffed out a frustrated breath. “They were so pleased with themselves for ruining your reputation. Why would they just… Something isn’t adding up.”

There was a rustling on the other end as if Veronica were shaking her head. “I don’t know what to tell you, Betty. I can’t pretend to know what they were thinking when they pulled the trigger, but if you’re gonna do something that drastic, then you’re probably not thinking very clearly about the consequences. Things are gonna seem a little illogical to us on the outside.”

Betty adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “I guess,” she acquiesced. There was the contradiction of Asimov’s third law again. But humans and robots weren’t exactly the same, now, were they? Besides, Asimov’s _Three Laws_ were fictional. There was no point trying to make reality align with fantasy.

“Are you still there?” Veronica’s voice jerked her back into the present.

“Sorry, I got a little lost in thought for a minute there.” Betty laughed nervously. “I wanted to ask you, though… How do _you_ feel about this?”

Veronica paused again to consider the question. “I don’t know how to feel,” she confessed. “They spread rumors about me, so I’m... I’m kind of glad they aren’t around to hurt people anymore. But that doesn’t mean I’m glad they’re _dead._ ”

“Right.” Betty nodded. “Don’t worry, I know you wouldn’t wish death on anybody. None of this is your fault.”

“But--” Veronica choked on her words. “But I wrote in my diary that I wished Heather Chandler would drop dead. And then the next day, she killed herself.”

Betty raised her eyebrows in surprise. “That’s rough, Ronnie,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. It’s... still not your fault, though. I mean, it’s not like you put the cup in her hand and made her drink it, right?”

“Right.” Veronica didn’t sound reassured; if anything, she sounded more upset.

Betty couldn’t let that slide. “Hey, if you need anything, you know you can always count on me, okay?” She smiled. “Even if we haven’t spent a lot of time together lately, we’re still friends. And friends look out for each other.”

“Okay,” Veronica acknowledged.

“So, we have some catching up to do. How about that boyfriend of yours?” Betty did her best to sound mischievous and excited, like any normal girl would be, like she didn’t have a sinking feeling in her gut every time she thought of J.D. It was more than mere jealousy. It was a bone-deep sense of dread.

“What about him?” Veronica sounded suspicious.

“Relax, Ronnie, I’m not gonna try to steal your man,” Betty laughed, but she could still feel that pit in her stomach. “I was just wondering what he’s like. He had better be treating my best friend right!”

Veronica hummed. “He’s… childish. And infuriating. You know how they say opposites attract?”

Betty nodded, then remembered she was speaking on the phone. “Yes.”

“Well, they never talk about how hard it is to make it work when you’re so…” Veronica sighed. “When you’re so different from each other. It’s like we’re on two completely different wavelengths, all of the time.”

Betty didn’t really expect this conversation to turn into relationship counselling, but… Maybe she could find a way for her to voice her concerns about him to Veronica. “That sounds difficult.”

“I feel like I’m walking on eggshells,” Veronica vented. “Like I have to go along with his ideas, just because he thinks it’s what’s best for me. For us.”

Betty could practically hear the alarm bells going off. “Veronica… Who you choose to date is none of my business,” she started tentatively. “But from what you just told me, I feel like I should’ve spoken up sooner. I thought it might be nothing, but I’ve always gotten a really bad feeling from him. Like, I got the impression that he could be dangerous.”

Veronica gasped at that. “Look, Betty, I don’t know what you think you know about J.D.--”

“I don’t know anything about him,” Betty clarified. “I just got a bad vibe from him, and that’s all it is. But I’m starting to think I should’ve trusted my gut and told you before you got involved with him.”

“Listen, Betty, I’m dead serious,” Veronica urged her. “Whatever you think is going on, I need you to stay out of this. It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.”

Betty bristled at that. “We’re friends. Your problems are my problems.”

“Not this time, they’re not. Please, Betty,” Veronica begged, and Betty felt her heart ache, “just don’t get involved.”

“Fine,” Betty caved. She would stay out of it, but she would wait and watch. “I’ll be here if you need me, but if you don’t need me, that’s fine too.”

“Thanks for understanding.” Veronica sounded genuinely relieved.

“Anytime. I’ll let you go now, alright?”

“Okay. Buh-bye.”

“Bye.” Betty hung up the phone and shivered. Something was wicked in the town of Sherwood, she knew J.D. had something to do with it.

Asimov’s second law of robotics stated that a robot had to obey the orders that people gave it. Now, Betty wasn’t a robot-- she wasn’t _that_ far gone-- but it still seemed like a reasonable code of ethics. If someone makes a request of you in good faith, and you can easily fulfill it, then there’s no reason not to. She was worried for her friend, but Veronica seemed confident in her ability to handle whatever situation had arisen. So, Betty trusted her to take care of it.

Within a few weeks, Betty received word that Veronica and J.D. had officially broken up. She had expected to be happy upon hearing that sort of news, but she only felt apprehensive. J.D. was dangerous, and though Betty didn’t know in what way yet, she wouldn’t think it below him to retaliate against Veronica somehow.

Another shift in the social politics at Westerberg had occurred: Heather Duke had seized the crown-- or, as it were, the red scrunchie. Betty normally liked to root for the underdog, but Duke’s power trip was off-putting.

Soon after her breakup, Veronica invited Betty over to play croquet, so naturally she took her friend up on the offer. It had been ages since they’d been able to play, or spend any sort of quality time together at all, actually. It was a nice change of pace from fretting over her friend at a distance, and they had a nice time... until they were interrupted by the two remaining Heathers. Betty politely excused herself; she was quiet and shy, so she knew how to tell when she wasn’t welcome.

Later that night, Betty’s mom told her Martha Dunnstock had attempted suicide. She had survived, but Betty was still discomforted by the thought of another Westerberg suicide. How many more people would try to take their lives?

Then Heather McNamara attempted suicide, too, but Veronica stopped her. Betty thought, once again, of Asimov’s second law: A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings… _except_ where it would contradict the first law, against injuring people or causing harm through inaction.

She had been thinking about what Veronica told her on the phone. Veronica had wished Heather Chandler would drop dead, and she did, straight through a glass coffee table. Kurt and Ram spread humiliating rumors about her, and they died stripped to their underwear in the woods. Martha and McNamara’s attempts appeared unrelated to these deaths, but those girls were spurred on by the grief and strife in the wake of tragedy. Something had to be done.

Veronica could throw a punch, but could she commit murder? Stage suicides? No, Betty didn’t think Veronica could stomach that sort of thing, at least not if she were acting alone. She didn’t think Veronica had any sort of murderous intent. If her suspicions were correct, who else could it be but J.D.?

It wasn’t long after that when she came to school on the morning of the pep rally, and she heard that Veronica Sawyer had “committed suicide”.

Jason Dean had killed her best friend, and he was going to pay dearly for it.

Betty tracked him down with cold-blooded precision. She watched him go into the men’s restroom with a duffel bag in hand, and she clenched her own fists until her nails bit into her palms, leaving angry red marks against her skin. Somehow she doubted that it was just his gym clothes in that bag.

He _had_ to have something planned for the pep rally. Everyone would be in one room.

She glanced down the hall and noticed the fire alarm. If she could get everyone outside before he got a chance to hurt anyone, she would be able to stop him without anyone getting caught in the crossfire. But she had to let the pep rally start, because if he didn’t hear all the cheering, he would get suspicious.

Maybe she could force him into the boiler room and corner him there. But with what weapon?

She eyed the fire extinguisher.

“Betty, what are you doing out here?” Ms. Fleming demanded suddenly, making Betty jump. “Class starts in a minute, come on now, hurry along…”

Betty frowned, but she humored the teacher, walking down the hallway and turning the corner. Then she waited to hear Ms. Fleming’s footsteps retreat before she reemerged.

In the otherwise empty hallway, Veronica was standing there staring at her.

“Ronnie!” Betty couldn’t help but gasp. “I-- I thought you were dead, I thought he killed you--”

Veronica looked confused, then. “Wait, he was telling people it was a suicide, how did you know?”

“We don’t have time for all that, I think he’s going to do something at the pep rally!” Betty cried out.

“Yeah, I knew about that,” Veronica explained, deadpan. “He’s gonna try to blow up the school.”

“ _Jesus._ ”

“I know, right? But listen, you have to go to class,” Veronica tried to convince her. “This is serious, I don’t want you to get hurt. I can take him.” She lifted the back of her jacket and pulled a pistol from her waistband demonstratively, then slipped it back into place and concealed it again.

“If I don’t help you, you could get hurt,” Betty insisted. “He might _actually_ kill you, and then we’d all be doomed. If I just go to the pep rally like everything’s normal, then I’d be none the wiser.”

“Maybe it would be a good thing if he actually killed me,” Veronica muttered. “I’m just as bad as he is.”

Betty’s jaw dropped. “Ronnie, no. Look, I don’t care what he made you do! It’s not your fault he’s a serial killer.”

“I can’t just let you come along unarmed.” She crossed her arms defensively, pulling her jacket over her chest. “I mean, I don’t want to underestimate you, but…”

“We would have better odds if we faced him two against one,” Betty reasoned. “Think of it this way. If you can force him into the boiler room--”

“I think he’s going there anyway,” Veronica cut in, “thermals upstairs and a big bomb in the boiler room.”

“All the better for us, then. We can corner him down there.”

Veronica shook her head incredulously. “I never thought I’d see the day where Betty Finn was plotting to take down my evil ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been dreaming of this day for weeks,” Betty laughed. “I’m just glad I have a good reason to do it now.”

Veronica gaped at her and slapped her arm playfully. “Betty! You can’t just say you’re _glad_ he’s trying to--”

“I know, believe me, I’m not!”

The girls grinned at each other, and then the bell rang. It was time to face the music.

Betty agreed to let Veronica go down to the boiler room two minutes ahead of her, since she was the one with the gun. If Veronica could distract him long enough…

Betty watched the hand on the clock counting down the seconds, and then she burst into the boiler room. J.D. was wrestling Veronica for the gun, but his head shot up at the sudden noise, giving Veronica the opening she needed to pin him down and point the gun at his forehead. He shoved her backwards and pushed himself to his feet.

“Oh, come on, Veronica, I thought we were finally getting some alone time!” he exclaimed. “Just you and me, just like old times. Don’t tell me you invited a third wheel!” He was squaring up to rush at her when he got a better look at Betty on the stairs and did a double take. “Really. _That’s_ your backup? _Betty Finn?_ Christ, she couldn’t hurt a fly! You would’ve been better off enlisting Martha Dunnstock!”

Veronica took a step towards him, tightening her grip on the gun. “How about a round two? _Just like old times?_ ”

He charged at Veronica and knocked her to the floor, rearing his fist back to take a swing at her, but she rolled to the side and just barely dodged it. Pulling her leg up, she swiftly jammed her knee into his abdomen; he let out a pathetic wheeze as Betty calmly descended the stairs.

“Is that all you got?” J.D. taunted, though he was decidedly worse for wear.

Veronica made to grab for his throat, but she only caught a fistful of trenchcoat. She strained to adjust her grip, to shove him off, but he was grappling with her now. So she let go and rolled to the side again, then bit into his arm. He let go for a second, but it was just long enough for her to maneuver her way around him. He spun to face her, panting.

“I’ll shoot you, you son of a bitch, don’t think I won’t,” she hissed.

“Then do it.”

“Not until you tell me how to stop that thing.” She gestured with her head to the timer, which was counting down one minute.

“You’ve got tech whiz Betty Finn here with you,” J.D. teased. “Why don’t you have her figure it out, yeah, Ronnie?”

“Get her name out of your mouth, you goddamn creep.” He jumped as he heard Betty’s voice from directly behind him, and as he turned his head to glance back at her, she swung the fire extinguisher with all her might and bashed him over the head. He crumpled to the floor instantly, and Betty rushed over to the bomb.

“ _Goddamn?_ ” Veronica asked her, and Betty just shrugged helplessly. Veronica shook her head in response. “Earth to J.D., are you ready to tell us how to turn off your stupid toy?”

J.D. groaned and clutched at his head, blinking away stars and streams of blood. “The red button,” he slurred.

“They’re all red!” Betty reported. “Should I hit him again?”

“Which button?” Veronica grit out. The timer ticked down the thirty seconds and she shot his hand.

“God!” he shouted, writhing in pain. “The middle one! Fuck!”

Betty looked back at Veronica questioningly. She was unsure whether to take him at his word.

Veronica leaned down into J.D.’s face. “I swear to God, if you’re lying to me the next bullet’s going right between your eyes,” she whispered.

“It’s the middle button,” he repeated, and he shut his eyes.

“Betty, PRESS THE ONE ON THE LEFT!”

“Are you s--”

“DO IT!” she screamed, and Betty complied.

The timer stopped at 2 seconds. Veronica grabbed J.D. by his collar and yanked him up onto his knees, placing the barrel of the gun to the back of his head.

“I told you I’d kill you if you lied to me,” Veronica said plainly.

“Then get it over with already.” J.D. sounded downright bored. “Or are you gonna spare me because you think you’re too good to kill somebody?”

Veronica shook her head and laughed. “Believe me, babe, I would love nothing more than to unload this baby into that demented little head of yours, but you’re not worth the jail time.”

“How about we take a nice walk out front of the school, yeah?” J.D. suggested nonchalantly, as if he was making plans for lunch and she didn’t still have a gun pressed to his skull. “You can execute me on the front steps. Or you could take me out back like Old Yeller. _Or,_ you can hand me the bomb and I can blow myself sky high. That’d be poetic. What do you say? The last Westerberg suicide.”

“No, I’ll tell you how this will go,” Betty interrupted. “No more deaths. You’re going to sit in prison, where you belong, and think about how much you don’t deserve Veronica. And she’s gonna get the key to the city for stopping the bombing of Westerberg High.”

Veronica snickered and removed her jacket, then Betty used it to tie J.D.’s arms behind his back. He struggled against it at first, but Veronica pushed the gun insistently against his head and he stilled.

“Fuck you,” he muttered darkly.

J.D. was apprehended by police, and classes were cancelled for the rest of that day, and, in fact, for the next two weeks. Veronica did not receive a key to the city, but she did retrieve her red scrunchie from Heather Duke.

“It’s what Heather Chandler would have wanted,” Betty commented.

Heather McNamara looked at her oddly. “Are you kidding me? Heather would have _hated_ this.”

Betty just shrugged. She knew that Heather Chandler had seen _some_ sort of potential in Veronica, and the blonde had sought to nurture it as best she knew how. Maybe she wouldn’t have handed over her coveted scrunchie like a war hero’s medallion, though.

“Oh, yeah, she would have hated every second of this,” Duke affirmed. “If she wasn’t the center of attention, she wasn’t interested.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Veronica deadpanned, flapping a hand at Duke dismissively. “Come on, Betty, let’s go back to my place and eat some popcorn.”

As they walked down the hall together, feeling for all the world as if they’d just crawled out of hell, Betty slipped her hand into Veronica’s. The other girl didn’t even bat an eye; she just smiled quietly as they confidently strode away from the scene of the crime.

“I love you,” Betty blurted out, just in case Veronica hadn’t gotten the idea. “I’m in love with you.”

Veronica’s smile turned into a beam. “Yeah, you know, I may have gotten that impression,” she quipped. “I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship after…” She gestured with her head to the gym, far behind them now. “After _that_ whole mess, but we can always try.”

“That’s all we really can do, isn’t it? Try?”

Veronica nodded and hummed contentedly, squeezing Betty’s hand tighter. Then she perked up as she saw Martha Dunnstock, and she tugged Betty along to go say hello.

**Author's Note:**

> i am operating on a different plane of headassery right now. i have been writing for eight hours straight from 9pm to 5am. are my references to asimov remotely coherent? god only knows, because i sure as hell dont know anything about asimov beyond the wikipedia pages! ordinarily i would put more effort into research but what in the whole fuck even IS this fic, really. anyway outside of my confusing allusions and what is probably an abrupt ending, i hope this has been an otherwise enjoyable read. can you tell its 5am???


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